


Auld Lang Syne

by Radio Rascal (Vagrants)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, kinda vaguely shippy but i don't want to tag it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:26:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22097095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrants/pseuds/Radio%20Rascal
Summary: After millions of years, the unfortunate mechs trapped in the Dead Universe have forgotten words because they served no use. There is something that the two remember, however, and it transcends language; it's the shape of a melody and the impression a song can leave on one's spark. To brighten the world unfathomed by any light, and to remember that they once lived, they sing, and sing, and sing.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Auld Lang Syne

**Author's Note:**

> idk i was basing this off vague mental imagery because i've only read Heart of Darkness and a little more non-MTMTE stuff. but i liked the mental imagery and wanted to share it.
> 
> i'm like, the only person on the planet who likes IDW Galvatron but that's ok. every character deserves that 1 slightly off-kilter fan who somewhat-obsessively creates content for them and i'm that person for him. there are heavier burdens. i could be Froid's fan, for instance

In the Dead Universe, nothing changed. Death was, itself, change, but it was supposed to give way to life and begin the cycle anew; here, there was no life and no possibility for it, so permanent, eternal unlife was the fate of this tormented plane.

Then, something moved. It couldn’t be alive, for such a thing didn’t exist here, but it was movement and it caught the attention of Galvatron’s sensors. Though his stuttering brain module had long forgotten the meaning of sound, there was a part of him that still recognized when a signal or a wave touched his audials. After a timeless sleep of stillness and pretending to accept his death, his body lit up once more.

At once time, he’d searched for a way out of the Dead Universe, but when the twisted, infernal machinations of his existence grew too heavy for his frame, he fell upon the ground and slept for lack of anything better to do. He didn’t know how much time had passed, or if such a question could even be asked of this place. When he remembered he was on the ground he thought  _ I am in danger _ , then realized there was no danger for someone who had already died.

Galvatron’s optics onlined more smoothly than he expected. He quickly identified the starless sky of the Universe in front of him, and when he ground the servos in his neck to twist his head to either side, he saw a bland, flat expanse. His audials still detected something, so he pushed himself up and looked around.

Twisting his head to look over his shoulder, Galvatron found he wasn’t the first of his party to rise; also, he had a party. For a second he did not recognize the mech standing behind him, just that this one was a friend and raising his weapon was unnecessary. Then he registered that he was looking at Cyclonus, who was moving and producing the sound that had awakened him.

Cyclonus noticed him, went silent, and looked at him. Galvatron inclined his head and narrowed his optics, asking a question for which he could not recall the appropriate words.  _ What are you doing? _

When Cyclonus offered a hand, Galvatron took it and hauled himself up, keeping his legs locked straight because he was still getting used to being awake. Once he was steady, Cyclonus let him go and began again.

Singing, that was the noise. At first it struck Galvatron as stupid. There was no point—the void could not answer—a sound wouldn’t save them—but then his spark shuddered and he understood. Cyclonus sang an old rhyme, an ancient poem from home, because it was a piece of Cybertron and it existed and so did he and he sang to prove that, to himself and to whatever entities might be listening. He sang to defy his impossible situation.

Something about the melody or the realization was familiar and, absurdly, Galvatron remembered his twin. One huddled into the other’s chest as they took turns holding and being held, not because it did anything for their situation, but because it did something for them. It made them warm and reminded them there was a world outside the cruelty. Their sparks brightened the bleakest shadows until the darkness was lifted from them.

He felt almost apologetic for his reflexive, albeit unheard, criticism. It took him several minutes to remember how to do it, and in that time Cyclonus’s current song ended. He reached over and tapped Cyclonus on the shoulder, tilting his head and gesturing to himself.  _ Do you know this one? _

The words of the nursery rhyme had no meaning, but the shape of the sounds were familiar to him even if he didn’t know exactly what he was saying. Cyclonus stared at him, so he tried the first notes of another to no avail. Did Cyclonus not know any Protihexian songs? What a shame.

It was fine. Galvatron wasn’t familiar with Tetrahex’s music either. There was plenty of time to learn so they started then and there. They took turns crooning, sometimes swaying to rhythms that pleased them, and somehow they moved close enough to touch shoulders and then to hold each other across the backs, feeling no warmth or happiness but content all the same. In a Universe where everything was dead, they had brought something to life.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading
> 
> apologies to Froid's fan


End file.
